Dhaka Diary

Ready to Rumble
As I was walking towards my bus counter at Shahbagh, I saw a scene of chaos. The fruit-seller was rushing with his basket of oranges, the plastic utensil seller took a sack full of his things and followed the fruit seller and more people with various other contraptions were seen following the crowd. The vendors of the footpath in front of PG Hospital were trying to save their possessions from the police who, inside a Yellow Tractor, were seen uprooting BRTC counters of Shahbagh and crashing them a moulded iron. This is what happens to those who occupy government property without prior permission. Hoards of people flocked on the streets to look at the rampage with awe. But everyone knew that it was simply an 'eye-wash'. The same vendors and 'illegal' bus counters would soon be back and life will go on as they are. Such is the reality of our beloved city.

Sabreena Ahmed

Catch me if you can
This story dates three years back .I was in Dhaka City College. Our class was from 11am to 5pm generally. After lunch, the students were usually too bored to attend the following classes, especially when it was Bangla. Though our teacher taught really well, it wasn't very interesting listening to lectures on a full stomach. We were simply present to give our attendance percentage which was important. One day my friends were leaving the Bangla class, silently and stealthily in order to go unnoticed. Finally it was my time to sneak out but I became a little confused because our teacher was looking more at the students and less at the board. As there were more students who wished to sneak out and I was holding up the line, my friends told me to hurry. I looked for an opening and after five minutes of waiting, I took a chance. Before I was out of the door, the horror unfolded. Our teacher turned around and saw me at the door. Without thinking, I started to run. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the teachers running towards me, towards the door, a look of constipated anger on his face, but by the time he had reached the corridor, I was gone…free as a bird. I had never felt so scared and relieved at the same time.

Momen Jatrabari

The Little Angel
A few days ago, my friends and I were having a little 'adda' on Fuller Road. A little boy came strolling by and offered to sell us some garlands. He had tears in his eyes. I asked him why he was crying and he told me his tale. He had a small family, a tiny sister and a mother. He sells garlands and that is their only source of income. They live in a little cottage and they have to pay a rent of Tk 300. This was their last day to pay the rent and he had only managed to collect Tk 260 throughout that month. He still had Tk 40 more to collect and he had only that day to collect it. I felt really bad for this little boy because he had to face the harsh realities of life at such a tender age. I offered him Tk 40 and told him to go home but he would not leave until we took garlands worth that much. I was amazed at his honesty. He had a winning smile on his face. I felt really good that day because I had been given the power to witness a small miracle of life -- I had witnessed tears turn to a smile.

Anonymous